


Flowers from the Fingers

by mewlingss



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Short One Shot, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-26 00:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14989109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mewlingss/pseuds/mewlingss
Summary: Lysa goes along way to make young Petyr feel welcome at his new home.





	Flowers from the Fingers

**Author's Note:**

> a one-shot about my baby Baelish. Could possibly be a multi-chapter fic? idk its summer anything is possible and i want to write.

***

Lysa didn't think of knocking, she simply barged into the room with the flowers pooling over arms. ‘Petyr!’ she giggled, ‘Look what i’ve found’ 

Petyr was situated at his desk, neck craned downward as he quietly read. Lysa thought she could stand like this forever, watching him read; the careful workings of the muscles in his neck, his eyes bright and intelligent as they roamed over the words in his hands. He looked up suddenly at her, grey-green eyes transfixing her in place and causing the air to rush out of her lungs in a flourish.

She extended her hands to show him her findings of the morning. ‘Uncle Brynden told me these usually grow in the Fingers’ he closed the book and cast it aside, his right hand stilling over it. ‘I thought you’d like something to remind you of home.’ 

The flowers in her hands shook with her excitement, ‘What do you think?’ she almost begged. 

Petyr’s gaze descended from her face to the masses of flowers she held. ‘They’re very nice, Lysa’ 

Her smile fell. She tried to keep it in place; tried so hard to shrug it off like Catelyn would do, but she only managed to wear a poorly disguised, pained expression. She nodded demurely and tried to look anywhere else but in Petyr’s way. stupid stupid stupid. He didn't care about her stupid flowers nor about how she had spent all morning dragging Uncle Brynden with her around the grounds, begging him to point her to the right flowers. Petyr only cared about books and stories. 

And _Cat_ , something from the sinister part of her mind reminded her dully. 

‘I’ll go put them in water for you’ she murmured, her whole being felt heavy with her sorrow. She managed to drag her feet to his chamber’s door when he stopped her. 

‘Lysa’ Her hand went rigid on the door handle, turning around she found that Petyr had stood up, his hands clenched at his sides. He wasn't looking at her, but at a fixed point on the floor. 

‘Forgive me’ he looked up expectantly at her, his eyes were almost regretful. ‘I dont feel very well’ 

She shook her head dismissively, ‘Its alright, Petyr, should I send for the Maester?’ 

He took a few tentative steps until he stood before her, reaching for the flowers which she happily handed over. Lysa watched mesmerized as Petyr closed his eyes and took a whiff from the bouquet, the sides of his lips tugged at the sides in a small smile. 

‘I do miss home sometimes’ he murmured, grey-green eyes on her Tully blue, ‘thank you’ 

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

As Lysa walked back to her room with a skip in her stride, she giggled and giggled until she fell in heap of skirts in her bed. The crown of her head throbbing with the remnants of Petyr’s kiss. 

 

***


End file.
